Two beating Hearts in a Dying World
by RyBearr
Summary: Clary as always lived in a world where the dead walk. When her brother's life is taken and her best friend leaves her, she has to rely on a vigilante group called the Shadow Hunters for her survival. When Clary's big secret is revealed, she finds herself in a race against time. {Plot inspired by the game: "The Last Of Us"}
1. Chapter 1: Living in the Apocalypse

Clary

"Clear!" came the voice of my older brother and then from my best friend Simon. Our footsteps echoed through out the small house we were searching and our voices carried from room to room with little difficulty. I could hear Jonathan opening and closing kitchen drawers and cabinets which was soon followed with a grunt of dissatisfaction in his findings. Simon's movements were quieter with distance but I was still able to keep attention on where he was at all times; a skill that had proven to be very important in the past.

I looked through the drawers of the desk in the small abandoned bedroom I stood in and found little things useful except a small bag of half eaten Cheese-its by the bedside table. Any food was graciously accepted. I tasted one and with satisfaction in the taste continued to consume them as I finished searching the room.

After I was satisfied with my mostly useless search of the room I went to meet back up with my brother Jonathan, handing him the now slightly more empty bag of snacks which he took without hesitation.

Simon now emerged from the other room and came to join Jonathan and I in the kitchen. His dark brown hair was getting way too long and was hanging loosely over the entirety of his forehead and down by his eyes. Though he was much thinner than Jonathan by nature, his slender frame held the shotgun in his hands with a strong dominance and readiness to face anything. He took his turn taking the bag of Cheese-its and downed the rest of it like one would a shot of liquor, before crumpling it up and tossing it into the nearby trashcan.

"Find anything?" Jonathan asked him which brought about a sigh from Simon as he ran his fingers through his hair to push it out of his vision.

"Nothing of use, no." He said with a hopelessness to his voice, most likely encouraged by fatigue and disappointment in their search so far. "Just a razor in the bathroom and a few bottles of water."

"Well," I say with opposing cheerfulness, "there's plenty of houses left in this neighborhood we haven't searched yet. We might get lucky yet." With that we all travel to other houses in the neighborhood. We found little in them but a few more scraps of food, a rusted baseball bat, a bit more water, and lots of victims of the virus -those of which that were not yet deceased we easily took care of-, raiders and suicide. Our still young spirits being slightly darkened by the sight, never having gotten used to it all.

After a few hours of this the sun began to set, the yellow sky turning darker every passing moment as we settled in the attic of what we felt was the safest house of the neighborhood, with plenty windows that we could spot danger out of.

Before long the street outside was completely dark outside of the windows view and the cold fall air of night creeped in on us. We used our backpacks as pillows and found a few dusty and frayed blankets that we took turns using throughout the night. I stay curled up and prayed that winter would not be too much worse than this.


	2. Chapter 2: Escaping the Attic

I woke up to the sound of a loud engine. I immediately threw off the tattered wool blanket and dashed to the wall under the window, my body naturally crouching in a defending stance. I reached for my bag and pulled out my binoculars. I took a few calming breaths before peeking my head out to see what was coming our way. The tank like truck that I could see on the distant hill was clearly military and trailing behind them was a hoard of the nonliving. As they came closer I could hear gunshots ringing out into the crowd of infected. When they came closer still, the guards' voices and the united shouts and sounds of the ill trailing behind them became clearer.

As the truck entered the neighborhood I ducked my head down and looked over to my companions, one of which was also awakening from the chaos. I signaled for Simon, who was always a lighter sleeper than Jonathan, to keep his head low enough that the occupants of the street could not see from the window as he gave me a look of question. Even though I knew well that no one could hear us over the roaring of the engine, playful shouts of the men or cries of the damned I was too afraid to make a sound. I waited and listened to the truck full of men, most likely buzzed for their cries of excitement of the bloodshed of the infected was slightly slurred. They passed and so did most of those following it; however more than a few lingered, drawn into the buildings surrounding us, that stood still ripe with the scent of the dead we found the previous day.

I looked back over to the two older boys and spoke quietly still as I grabbed for my things. "We need to get out of here before we're cornered."

Simon readily agreed and grabbed his things as a small group of infected stormed around on the floors beneath us. I counted at least four individually sounding beings as they devoured the two bodies at the bottom of the attic entrance that we had ignorantly left there the day before. I crept over to Jonathan and shook him, eventually waking him up. I signaled for him to be quiet and he instantly understood the situation. He silently sat up and grabbed his backpack that was under his head. In one smooth motion he was on his feet, his bag on his back and walking towards the rusted baseball bat on the floor that we found the day before. Once it was in his possession he clipped in the leather strap holster on his belt. He then turned to me and we made lingering eye-contact. His expression changed from pure focus to a look of slight concern. He stood up and paced toward me with surprising elegance and lightness in his step in contrast to his large frame.

Jonathan's large hands wrapped around the side of my shoulders. The warmth of them seeped through my sleeves and heated my skin that was still left cold by the air of the night before. The ring on his right hand was startlingly cold in comparison. His dark eyes stared into mine as he leaned in with a silent slowness until his cheekbone was against my temple and his breath was on my ear. He quietly whispered "Breathe, Clarissa"

It was at that moment that I realized that I in fact was no longer breathing in fear of being heard at such a close proximity to the monsters directly below. I took a deep breath in to Jonathan's satisfaction. However, his mouth didn't move nor did the rest of him. My eyes were aligned with his collarbone and I felt as though he could envelop me and swallow me whole if he leaned forward any more; a feeling I was now used to. "I'm going to go down first. You and Simon cover me" he said, still whispering as he reached around and slowly unzipped my bag which was hanging by the strap on my shoulder and dangling by my hip, pulling out my pistol, closing the bag, and with fingers of an artist checked the magazine and counted the shots. He then grabbed my hand and placed the pistol in my palm. "Have my back. I know you are fully capable." He landed a soft kiss on my forehead before turning away from me to stand by the trapdoor to the floor below.

I stood there silently, taking deep breaths and thinking things through the best I could. We were throwing ourselves into a life threatening situation completely blind. There was a high chance that Jonathan would be ambushed the second he dropped down and there would be nothing that I or Simon could do to help him fast enough.

Jonathan's words repeated themselves in my mind as he crouched down, his hand on the latch to the trapdoor of the attic we all stood in. He used to make me hide in a dark corner while he and Simon took care of everything; that was until I was nearly killed by a gang of bandits that found me with nothing to protect myself. After that he handed me a gun and taught me how to use it. I had always been small, even for my age and being so much younger than them left me much less capable than them. This went threw my mind as I reason to how he could be so brave as I watched my brother's fifteen year old body slip through the opening the open trapdoor provided, causing a shiver to go up my spine.

Simon followed right behind him and before I could even get myself close enough to peer down at them, one of the infected was down and Simon was beating a second one with a metal pipe he'd found to be extremely useful in close encounters. As Simon crushed the head of the infected in front of him, Jonathan landed a powerful hit on one of the two left standing. Two more of those hits and the vicious being was down. He turned his focus on the last one that Simon was attempting to fend off himself without his pipe, which was now deep in the skull of one of the undead.

Jonathan turned the bat to the last infected as Simon loaded his own gun. The bat landed directly on the head of the rather large adversary in front of him and broke in two, leaving the infected only slightly dazed and very aggravated. It came after Jonathan, who didn't have the time to grab any weapon to defend himself with. The large infected man slammed into him and knocked him into the wall behind him. Simon lined up the shot and pulled the trigger; however no bullet came out of the barrel. No matter how many times he pulled the trigger the gun simply gave off a strange sound that showed it must be jammed.

Jonathan's voice went through my head. I could hear him say all over again: 'Have my back. I know you are fully capable.' as I lined up the shot. I took a deep breath as I felt the precious seconds tick away and let the bullet fly. My heart seemed to stop as I stood there, praying that I wouldn't hit my brother by accident.

Jonathan was sprayed with blood before the infected's body crumpled to the ground. He turned his head upward, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth to clear off the blood and looked up at me. His white teeth flashed as he gave me a smile that showed more pride than I had ever felt being directed towards me. I sat on the edge of the trapdoor and jumped down, immediately going over to Jonathan and hugging him tightly. An embrace which he returned with strong arms. "Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice rang in my own ears and I could hear my own desperation for reassurance.

To my relief, Jonathan shook his head. "No, just a few scratches." He said confidently. I looked over to Simon for verification from him as well, which was granted to me in the form of a nod.

We spent a few moments in the house as Simon repaired his gun before setting off to find our next place to stay. We dragged our feet slightly as we made our way out of the house and into the street. It was obvious that all three of us missed our old set up, a nice little office building we called home before being driven out by raiders. My bag swung at my side as we walked along the sidewalk. We had nearly made it out of the neighborhood when Simon stopped pointed to a house on the other side of the street that we were passing.

The house he was pointing to was boarded up with wooden blanks and on the second story exterior wall there was a message painted with various colors: 'Please help. No Food. No Ammo.'

Jonathan just shrugged and continued walking. "There are plenty houses like that," he said "They all either died in there or were driven out by desperation."

"But Jonathan, that paint is still wet." Protested Simon. He was indeed correct, for the paint still glistened in the sun and was dripping slightly. And yet Jonathan continued.

"That's their problem. They're probably bit. And even if they're not dead or insane they will just be another mouth to feed." Jonathan snapped, his steps unwavering. We however did not follow him. He traveled about 20 feet before succumbing to the idea that we weren't leaving without going into that house. With a sigh of defeat, he turned back around and walked towards us. "Fine" he said. "But this is a just a waste of time."


End file.
